The Youth of an Older Hogwarts
by HatakeRyari
Summary: a story about romance, possibly adventure, and an existence at Hogwarts that is rather mysterious to us HP fans. Sirius/OC possible adult themes later!
1. Samara

((Author's Note: Okay, this is my first real fanfic, and it's not going to be that great, and I'm sorry. ^^; But I tried! Mostly, I think, I just wanted to write down some Sirius because he was my favorite character :) My character is Samara and I made up a few things like the tri-school quidditch tournament, everything else (c) J.K. Rowling, basically! And...er....in the film, it says James is a seeker, but J.K. Rowling said in an interview that she'd intended him to be a chaser....so I don't know if that means that she intended for him to be a chaser but is now accepting him as a seeker, or if she still firmly says that in the books, he's a chaser. So...I just wrote it as a seeker, but I am sooo willing to change it if Rowling wants him to be a chaser! Please enjoy!))

CHAPTER 1: Samara

"Sirius!"

Sirius turned around at the call of his name. "Yeah, what—" he started, but then smiled when he saw who it was. "Oh, hey, Sam."

Samara Raillen ran over to the boy, dodging younger students in the hallway. She stopped just short of plowing into him and grinned. "Bit of a crazy day, isn't it?" she asked him brightly. Sirius smiled back and nodded, flipping his shaggy black hair out of his face.

"Yeah, I reckon so." Sirius looked around the hallway; students were running everywhere, discussing the big quidditch competition, scrambling to copy down homework they'd forgotten to do in all the excitement, and, of course, comparing notes for perhaps the most anxiously awaited event, the Yule Ball at the end of next week.

The two students were in their sixth year, and this was the first tri-school tournament they'd ever been a part of. Top qualifiers from the three schools of Hogwarts, Durmstrang, and Beauxbatons formed three quidditch teams to represent their schools. Next Wednesday would be the Tournament, and on Friday was the ball. Students were no longer focusing on schoolwork; there was too much commotion in the old castle. The teams from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons had already arrived and were settled in quite comfortably. Sirius's best mate, James, had made the Hogwarts team as seeker, and even Samara had made it as a beater. It was going to be a hell of a game.

But Sirius was _not_ looking forward to the Yule Ball. Ever since its announcement, it seemed, girls were suddenly hinting at him left and right, flirting with him – one frightening fourth year even sent him bewitched chocolates – and several had even gone so far as to ask _him_. It was quite a bother to have to turn them all down, but Sirius had someone in mind, and he was just waiting for the right time to ask her.

"Did you hear? Durmstrang's seeker is Romteg, what d'you think, can James beat him?" she asked intently, gazing up at him, her eyes demanding a response. Sirius returned her stare, quiet for a moment. Sam had a sort of dazzling effect on him when he looked into her shimmering blue eyes…he…tended to lose his thought…

"Sirius? What do you think?" she asked again, waving a hand in front of his face. "Oy, I'm losing you, here!"

Sirius shook his head and blinked. "Er. Sorry." He quickly turned his gaze to his copy of Advanced Potion Making, his dark hair falling into his eyes. "I think James'll kick Romteg's arse. Romteg is bigger, he'll be slower, plus James's reaction time is pretty impeccable." He looked over at her again and grinned. "But how do you think you'll do against those Beauxbaton girls? I hear they're vicious!" he teased.

But Sam just frowned at him, making him draw back slightly. Samara angry was something people didn't attempt to provoke.

"I dunno, really…" she sighed, and Sirius realized that she wasn't mad at him; she was actually very worried about the competition. "The girls I saw at their practice the other day – oh, don't give me that look, James was right there with me watching – they're pretty accurate," she bit her lip. Sirius suppressed a smile. Samara had a very cute pout.

_Snap out of it, Sirius,_ he scolded himself. He shook his head and turned to her, placing a hand on her shoulder casually. "Ah, come off it, Sam. You got on the team, didn't you? Beat those loser beaters from Slytherin, and you know, even our beaters weren't good enough to make the school team. And you know Gryffindor is leading the school cup right now." He grinned at her, a charming smile that made most of the girls in school swoon. But Sam just smiled back and half-heartedly pushed his hand off her shoulder. Sirius liked that about her – she didn't fall to pieces around him. She was level-headed and rational, and she cared. A good friend.

Despite her smile, Sirius knew she still was worried by it, but nerves were to be expected, anyway. "C'mon, let's get some food before Potions," he suggested. Samara seemed to recognize his attempt to distract her and apparently decided to let him.

"All right, let's." After ducking down a corridor, the two made their way down toward a particular portrait of a fruit basket, one that very few in the school even knew about, for an exclusive mid-afternoon snack.


	2. Sirius's Yule Ball Bothers

**Author's Note: Here it is, chapter two...oh wait, I'd forgotten...nobody is reading this...well, that's okay, because it quite frankly sucks. But this is my first ever fanfic, and I think I'm still getting used to writing them. So...perhaps I'll get better the more chapters I write! :/ Anyway....I hope someone reads it and perhaps gives me a review? *hopeful smile* **

**Harry Potter (c) JK Rowling!  
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"Cut it out, James." Sirius swatted his friend's snitch away from his face and scooted closer to his eggs and toast. Sirius was happy for the seeker to have made the school team, but today, he was fed up with him and his ridiculous snitch, always fooling around with it, bragging about his achievements.

James seemed to sense this, but he just huffed. "What's got your wand in a knot, mate? I was just—"

"—Just showing off for Lily, yeah, I noticed," Sirius snapped irritably. James blinked, taken aback by his friend's blunt words. He scowled.

"Honestly, Padfoot, what's happened? You were fine last night, I thought," he said, obviously offended but trying to pass himself off as casually indifferent. Then he grinned, somewhat evilly. "Way I remember it, you snuck back into the dorm at two; traipsing about with Sam again?" he added slyly, as payback for Sirius's comment about Lily.

CLINK. Sirius looked down at himself, startled. He had been gripping his mug so tightly that he'd cracked the handle. Turning red, he fumbled for his wand, gripping it a bit less ferociously and prodding the mug. With something of a slurping noise, it fixed itself, although admittedly it was now a lovely shade of burgundy.

"Things not so good with Sam, eh?" James said wisely, raising an eyebrow at the scene. Sirius elected not to dignify his remark with a response, instead sitting there, glaring at the defenseless mug as if it had done a great wrong.

"Padfoot! Prongs!" came a voice from behind him. He turned around. It was Remus, with Peter close behind. _What was I thinking, coming down to eat this morning?_ Sirius fumed silently. Now he had to deal with all of his nosy, persistent friends.

"Hey, Sirius! What'd you do? Your mug matches the color of your face!" chimed in Peter, always striving to be clever. But one nasty glare from Sirius told the mousy boy to shut it, and he did so, looking thoroughly squelched.

"Girl trouble, mates," James declared as if he were an expert in the matter of Sirius's troubles.

"Had a row with Sam, then?" Moony asked lightly as he sat down beside him at the table. Peter took the seat next to him.

"Right, then, you nosy gits," snapped Sirius, "we haven't been fighting at all. And I should think I have a right to one rotten day, haven't I?" With one last glare, he gathered up his books and walked away from the table, leaving three gaping sixth years looking among themselves cluelessly.

Sirius was just sinking into a nice depression when he felt someone forcefully grab his shoulder. Whipping around, he snarled, "what!?"

"Oi!" cried James, pulling his hand back in alarm. "Now listen, Sir, you're freaking all of us out, here!" He adjusted his glasses and folded his arms across his chest. "Tell me what's happened. And I know it's about Samara. Explain yourself," he commanded in a very McGonagallish tone.

After a long, tense pause, Sirius sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "S'pose it wouldn't hurt," he muttered, and he pushed his shaggy bangs out of his face, launching into his explanation. As the two friends talked, they meandered over to the greenhouses; it was a bit early for classes, but the vacant houses promised more privacy than the hallway.

"…She said _what?_" James hissed, ducking past a few admiring third years on the grounds and steering Sirius toward the third greenhouse. Sirius sighed, not wishing to keep reliving the awful moment when Samara had told him.

"She said she'd already been asked," he repeated testily. "Said loads of guys have already asked her, bloody gits—"

"But I thought—doesn't Samara have a thing for you, Pad?"

"Well, I suppose not, don't you reckon she'd have gone with me to the Yule Ball if she had?"

"No need to snap, I was just asking—but did she say she was sorry or anything, for having to turn you down?"

"Well, no, because I hadn't….actually asked her yet," Sirius admitted with a grumble. "We'd just been talking about the ball, and she said, casual as anything, 'Yeah, it's pretty crazy, twelve different sodding guys have already asked me—"

"_Twelve_?"

"Well, she didn't say _twelve_, but…" Kicking angrily at one of the plants as they entered the greenhouse (and then sidestepping its fangs as it tried to attack back), he looked his friend in the eye. "What'm I gonna do now, mate?"

"Well," James said, raising an eyebrow, "you'll just have to ask someone else. Make her jealous, aye?" He glanced out the window, his eyes following a certain young witch as she crossed the grounds with her friends…

Sirius snapped his fingers in front of his best mate's face. "You mean like you do with Lily?" he said sarcastically.

"All right, now leave her out of this," James said warningly. "In case you haven't noticed, she's already agreed to go to the Yule Ball with _me_." He casually ruffled his hair, and Sirius found himself wondering how a guy like James could get his girl to go to the Ball with him, but a guy like himself, the dangerous one, the – if he might say – handsome one, could not.

_It doesn't matter,_ he thought bitterly, _because Samara obviously isn't interested in me like I thought. _He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans and sighed.

"Well, mate, I bet Lily could find you a—" The boy stopped short of finishing his sentence at the murderous look on Sirius's features. He scowled back. "Well then, just take my advice and find yourself a new girl. Girls always want most what they can't have, right? So make her jealous, she'll come running. Come on, let's get a good table, everyone's coming."

Sirius grudgingly followed James to a spacious table toward the back of the greenhouse, and they watched in silence as the rest of their classmates filter in. Today, Gryffindor had class with Ravenclaw.

_Ah, this is going to be hell,_ Sirius thought glumly, and he turned his eyes to his books, desperate to avoid Samara's beautiful face for as long as he could.


	3. Dry Spells and Cousins

**Author's Note: Thank you to Crengels for your review! 3 **

**Well, I've updated, woohoo...unfortunately, this chapter sucks. T__T but oh well. I was trying to get an environment feel to things. What it's like right now. The next one will be better, I hope!**

**Harry Potter World (c) JKR!**

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"Chapter III: Dry Spells and Cousins"

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**BRITISH DRY SPELL, TROUBLE IN THE STATES**

Although many wizardfolk in Great Britain have been silently celebrating the recent lack of deaths, disappearances, and torturings, our brothers and sisters from across the pond are spinning quite the different story. It seems that in He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's absence over here, there have been fifteen deaths, thirty-nine public displays of the Imperius curse, and over seventy claims of inferi sightings in the last month alone over there. The United States President of Magic has officially stated to the wizarding world that she is putting "the best aurors in the country" into fighting You-Know-Who's attacks, but it seems not to be enough. "I am calling anyone who wishes to fight for his or her country," she stated in a rally in Nevada, "to come forward and go through our five-week training program, so that together we _(ctd. Page 3, Column 1)_

Samara sighed and opened the Daily Prophet to page 3, scanning the rest of the article. It was almost shameful to think that such articles no longer phased her or anyone else these days, they were so commonplace. But guilt dropped like a heavy ball and chain into her stomach at the thought_ I'm glad it's them and not us this time. _Shaking her head, she sloppily refolded the paper and rose from the breakfast table. Sam downed the last of her glass of milk and then tucked the Prophet under her arm, heading out of the Great Hall.

Had she been looking, she'd have noticed a tall, lanky boy about her age carrying a trunk and a rat cage in the direction of Ravenclaw tower, just as she was; as it were, she had been rereading her Herbology notes for the test later that day, and SMACK.

Samara walked straight into the blonde boy, causing her papers to fly everywhere and him to drop his rat. Samara quickly reached forward as she fell and caught the cage (she'd always had wonderful reflexes), hitting the ground hard on her spine. She winced up at the blurry boy, who was still on two feet and offering her a hand.

"God, thank you so much, Jimber could've been—_Sam?_" Said the boy as he pulled her up and took back his rat. Samara blinked blearily, waiting for her vision to clear. She blinked again.

"Thomas!" She exclaimed, throwing her arms around his neck and nearly toppling him over. "It's been _ages, _two whole dreary months! How've you been? And why're you back? Your mum's howler said you would never step foot in this castle again—" she stopped as a shadow crossed Thomas's face. "Oh, no, what's happened?" she asked, biting her lip. The seventh year glanced away for a moment, giving Sam more cause to worry. "Your mum—she hasn't been—?"

"No, no," Thomas cut her off quickly, waving his hands in front of him. "Nothing like that. But a neighbor of mine who went missing a few months back, he, er, turned up the other day…his memory's completely gone, he's in Mungo's, can't even hardly walk, he's so ill." He rubbed the back of his head. "Made my mum realize that nobody's safe, not even us in our secluded, high-security neighborhood. So I persuaded her to—Sam!" Thomas laughed as the girl pulled him back into a tight hug around the middle and rubbed her on the back. "I'm all right, aren't I?"

"I was so worried about you, you know, nowhere is safer than Hogwarts is, and I didn't want anything to happen to my cousin, even if we are having a dry spell—" she looked up at her cousin. "Or are we—are we out of the dry spell?" she asked worriedly. "If he showed up just the other day…" _Was _he_ back? _The thought sent chills shooting through her. The past month and a half and been so carefree, something she didn't want to lose already.

"I don't think he's back in Europe, no," he replied. "But there are little incidents that pop up here and there, and I think he must've found his way back to London out of sheer will. I don't think anyone dropped him off. No death eaters or anything." Then he gave her a large grin. "But enough of this grim business. I just got back! Come on, little cos, you can remind me where the tower is," he teased.

Samara smiled, relieved in the change of subject. She pushed him away lightly, waving her wand as all her notes swept themselves up, arranged themselves accordingly, and fluttered in a tight little packet into her outstretched hand. "All right, you haven't been gone that long!"

"Well, I'm forgetful, then."

"You Bramdons, all alike."

"Nah, it's really just Aunt Kris, she forgets everything."

"Well, it definitely wouldn't hurt to be like Kris Bramdon!" Their aunt Kris was Samara's favorite person in the world. Thomas grinned and she stuck her tongue out at him as they made their way up a moving staircase to reach the Ravenclaw Tower.

**A/N: Samara Raillen's mother has two sisters, Thomas's mother and Kris. Does that help clear anything up? P.s. sorry that there are only OCs in this chapter! :/ The next chapter's got Sirius in it. Oh boy does it have Sirius in it. Lol. Please read, review! :D**


	4. The Consequences of Impulse

**A/N: THANK YOU SO MUCH, ANONYMOUS "K"! For reading my story! It makes me happy sooo so happy! I now appreciate what it's like to get / not get reviews for a story, and will certainly post reviews to EVERY story I am following! 3 I hope that I do not disappoint you then, with this next chapter! :)**

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Chapter IV: The Consequences of Impulse

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"PAAADFOOOOOOT!"

Sirius winced. _Oh God, Priscilla Jungers,_ he thought, staring straight ahead and hoping in vain that she'd go away and leave him alone. No such luck, of course, as her hand wrapped around his shoulder, her long, ruby colored fingernails digging into his skin. He scowled and turned around. "What is it, Priscilla?" he asked irritably.

Priscilla gave him a smile so blinding he was tempted to shield his eyes. The tall sixth year was always trying to make herself look gorgeous and applied mounds of makeup to herself daily; as such, the result was rather fake-looking and somewhat frightening. Sirius remembered that Samara hated the Gryffindor slut with a fierce passion.

"I just wanted to ask you," she said slowly, batting her eyelashes excessively, "if you needed any help with your Ancient Runes essay. I am an expert in the subject," she said, running one finger down his muscled arm with a giggle. Sirius rolled his eyes.

"I'm not in Runes, Priscilla."

The girl winked at him. "Well then, how about a private lesson tonight, say in my room, Padfoot?" She let her finger trail its way toward his chest.

Sirius scowled farther and swatted her hand away from its destination. "I'm not interested, and don't call me Padfoot," he growled at her. He turned away from her shocked face and started walking away, but Priscilla was not to be denied. She grabbed his arm with both hands and pulled him around to face her.

"Why can't I? I hear James and Remus call you that _all_ the time!" she pouted. "I think it sounds rather silly, but I bet it could be quite the endearing pet name, in the right _situation_, wouldn't you say?"

Now thoroughly weirded out by the frightening girl's advances, Sirius was about to snarl at her to get the hell away, but at that moment, he noticed Sam walk around the corner with someone. He stopped, then slowly turned his head to Priscilla. A charming smile spread across his face.

"Hey, Pris," he called, loudly enough for those in the corridor to hear, "How'd you like to go with me to the Yule ball?" He asked, glancing over at Sam out of the corner of his eye. She'd stopped dead in her tracks. The boy beside her, whom he now recognized as Samara's cousin, was looking at her curiously.

Priscilla nearly dropped her bookbag in surprise. "Why—Sirius—" she spluttered, but quickly pulled herself together and smiled widely. "Why, of course I will!" And with that, she pulled Sirius into a squashing, wet, extremely uncalled-for kiss.

_I will _kill _James if this doesn't work,_ he thought to himself, struggling to keep himself from smacking the girl upside the head. Finally gasping and pulling away, he slid his arm tentatively around Priscilla's shoulders and turned his gaze to where Samara was, but all he saw was one of her converse trainers and the end of her robe whipping around the corner. His smile faltered, but then he remembered what James said and inhaled deeply. "C'mon, let me walk you to the tower," he said, somewhat bravely, to the giggling monstrosity beside him.

By the time the two of them made it to the Fat Lady's portrait, Sirius was seriously rethinking his impulsive actions. He wearily stepped through the hole as the portrait swung away and scanned the common room for James or Remus. He _needed_ to talk to them.

Without looking at her, he vaguely waved in Priscilla's direction and said, "right, well, see you." She made a squeaking, disbelieving noise, so Sirius turned to look at her. Her face was nearly purple and she appeared to be mid-sentence. _Has she been talking this whole time?_ The boy mused, not recalling hearing a word she'd said the entire time. Shrugging, he turned away and headed up the stairs to his dormitory; hopefully someone would be there.

_Even Peter,_ Sirius thought glumly, _would be a welcome face at this point._

**A/N: Oh noes! What's going on? Doesn't Sam have a date? If she does, then why would she be so upset over Sirius asking out a girl he can hardly stand?! DUN DUN DUUUN okay not so dramatic. Haha. Read/Review please! It is SO appreciated. :) **


	5. Bawls and Brawls

**A/N: Yeah, this chapter really sucks, I wrote it late last night and was a bit distracted, but I hate editing so here you can just have it in all its nasty, nasty glory. Hopefully next chapter will be better. Thanks! HP world and HP characters (c) JKR**

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Chapter V – Bawl and Brawl

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Thomas watched solemnly as his younger cousin sobbed into one of the sinks in the girls' toilet. Normally he would feel rather uncomfortable with this arrangement, but the only other girl who ever occupied this toilet lived in an S-bend and, quite frankly, didn't count. He gently laid a hand on her shoulder.

"Come on, Sam, it's not the end of the world. And anyway, he's not exactly a winner, is he? If he chose Pris Jungers over you, he's obviously mental," he said, hoping he sounded upbeat enough to calm her down. But it had the opposite effect; the sixth year only sobbed harder, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her robe shakily. Thomas winced. _Sirius Black has got it coming to him for this one,_ he thought angrily. "Well, look, only a ton of boys have asked you, you could go with any of them and I bet they'd be loads better—oh, Sam, please—it'll be all right—"

"A _ton?_ It was only three boys who've asked me! And I don't _want_ to go with any of them, Thomas! I turned them down, waiting for _him_ to ask and then--"

"AOUUU!" came a screech from a previously-assumed vacant stall. "Boy trouble, is it?" A ghastly figure wobbled out of the stall and swooped gloomily over to them. "Poor, poor pretty girl! Can't go with her _dream boy_, but still so popular! But nobody ever asks _Myrtle_ to a ball, no, not ugly, moping, nasty, _goblin-eared_—"

"Oh, _Myrtle,_ leave her the hell alone," Thomas groaned in exasperation. "Why don't you go haunt the boy's toilet for a while, peek into the bath and amuse yourself?"

The ghostly girl's eyes narrowed ferociously behind her glasses, and Samara gasped, looking up from the sink. "Oh, no, Myrtle, please—he didn't m-mean it," she said between sobs. But Moaning Myrtle had already inhaled deeply.

"AAAAOOOUUUUUUUUUUIEEEE!" she screamed. "SO THE BOY IN THE GIRLS' TOILET WANTS ME TO GO PEEK AT BOYS BECAUSE I CAN'T _POSSIBLY_ EVER GET ONE OF MY OWN! JUST BECAUSE MOANING MYRTLE CAN'T GET A BOY TO EVEN LOOK TWICE AT HER UGLY, PIMPLY FACE UNLESS SHE IS MAKING AN _AWFUL_ NOISE—"

"God, Myrtle, just _shut up!_" Samara shouted back. Thomas was so taken aback by his cousin's cruel behavior that he actually took a step back. Her face was twisted in rage and pain, rendering Myrtle completely silent from shock. Then, without another word, Thomas's cousin turned on her heel and ran out of the bathroom.

Thomas blinked after her, confused. This wasn't his cousin. He had never seen her so upset, not since…

"Well, what a wonderful friend _you_ are, won't even go after her when she's upset." Myrtle's sullen tone brought Thomas back to the fact that he was standing alone in the girl's toilet, and he bent over, scooped up Samara's backpack, and headed to the door.

"Go flush yourself," he grumbled at the bothersome ghost. In response, Myrtle wailed loudly and sank into her S-bend, splashing water over the sides in the course of her tantrum.

He was halfway up the stairs to Ravenclaw tower when he stopped. He could hear familiar voices, girls' voices. He strained to hear them.

"…Oh, God, Samara, I can't believe he would do that!" exclaimed one of them. Thomas frowned. Sam's friends had found her, and she probably had looked quite upset. He found himself debating on whether he should stop and help or just stay out of the way. Surely his cousin would want to be surrounded by her friends.

"Well, all the better for me, then," Thomas grumbled under his breath. "I'm going to go murder Sirius Black."

He quickly finished the climb, dropped off his stuff and Sam's bag, and ran down the stairs, heading toward Gryffindor Tower. If Sirius was still in there (and he probably was), Thomas would just have to wait until he came out. _I will get that little shit for what he did to Samara._

Thomas began going over hexes in his head. He rounded the corner and ran past an ugly brown tapestry, the portrait of the Fat Lady in clear view. He skidded to a halt. This was Gryffindor territory. And he obviously couldn't go in. He settled back against the wall beside the tapestry and waited.

"Langlock? No...not enough…Petrificus Totalus, too dull…hmm …" he flicked his wand angrily; a nearby first year squealed and backed away, ogling at the spot where his herbology book had fallen; it was now a pile of ash on the ground. Thomas growled. "Too permanent."

"…Honestly, Pad, I don't think you should have done it," came a voice as the Fat Lady swung aside. Thomas looked up. It was Remus Lupin, followed by the small boy Pettigrew and—

"Black!" he snarled, leaping forward and raising his wand. Sirius's eyes widened in surprise and he reached for his own wand.

But before Thomas could get a spell out, Remus stepped forward and shouted, "Expelliarmus!" Thomas's wand flew out of his hand, but that didn't stop him. He ran forward and tackled Sirius to the ground, landing a fist on the younger boy's right temple. Sirius grabbed at Thomas's shoulders and tried to throw him off, but the seventh year had already managed to get an arm against the boy's throat. Sirius reached back and threw a punch squarely at Thomas's jaw, his wand now also long forgotten on the ground. Thomas groaned, blood welling up on his lip; he grabbed and kicked at the other boy, struggling to get a piece of him, any piece…

"THAT IS QUITE ENOUGH!" With a loud bang, the boys shot apart; Thomas ran into the wall and slid down, wincing. Professor McGonagall came swooping down toward them. "What," she demanded harshly, "is the meaning of this?"

Thomas looked away with a scowl. The professor looked between the boys, her arms folded across her chest, and finally sighed. "Mr. Black. Mr. Bramdon. I want an explanation from both of you in my office now. Come along." She waved off the other students in the hallway, calling, "Get to your classes, all of you!" before turning on her heel and striding toward her office.

And though they were not quite finished seething a each other, the two boys had no choice but to follow.

**A/N: Yesh. I can not write fight scenes. This chapter sucks. Er...go with it? ^^; Sorry.**


	6. Bad Track Record

**A/N: Chapter VI, I _think_ it's better than the last one.... :-/ Let me know would ya? I know the last one sucked. Anyway. R/R!!! :)**

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Chapter VI – Bad Track Record

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Sirius struggled to his feet, swaying a moment before grudgingly following the professor. He saw Thomas get up as well, walking on the opposite side of the hall. McGonagall didn't so much as look at them until they reached her office, at which point she turned around, stood in front of her desk, folded her arms once more, and glared sternly down her nose at them.

"I don't know what has gotten into you, but I won't have a member of my house behaving so barbarically, Mr. Black. Thirty points from Gryffindor, as much as it pains me to do it! And I'm sure Professor Flitwick will have something to say to you, Mr. Bramdon—"

"_Thirty points?_ He came at me, Professor!" Sirius protested. _And I have no idea why, _he thought angrily; he was still seeing red, although it was only provoked by Sam's seventh year cousin.

Thomas glowered as he slowly rose to his feet. "You deserve a lot worse than a bloody black eye, Bl—"

"For what?! What've I done!?" Sirius shouted, rising to his feet.

"For what you did to my cousin, you sodding—"

"What _I _did?! Sam was the one who—"

"_Will the both of you sit down!"_ McGonagall sighed and rubbed her temple. "You two obviously need to work a few things out, but _it will not be done in my office. _Or in the hallways. I suggest you discuss this calmly and _not_ in my presence."

"But I just—"

"_Enough._ Mr. Bramden, you are dismissed, and I shall inform Professor Flitwick of your actions." Thomas got up and, shooting one last seething glare at Sirius, left the office. Sirius got up to follow.

"Not so fast, Mr. Black." Sirius turned around to find his Head of House sitting at her desk, her eyes closed and her hands folded on the desk. "This is just one of the many incidents that you seem to be involved in, the majority of them being with your brother or with young Mr. Snape." She opened her eyes and looked squarely at him; Sirius felt his face grow hot and he looked away, somewhat ashamed. "I've sent several owls to your mother, but as she doesn't seem to be taking a very…_active_ role in your punishment or, preferably, your reformation." Sirius winced. He felt himself glad anew that he was no longer under his mother's roof.

"That is why Professor Dumbledore and I have agreed – that I shall take it upon myself to see to your discipline."

Sirius's jaw dropped. "I'm sorry—_what?!_" he exclaimed, dumbstruck.

"You and I shall meet once a week to discuss and improve your behavior. Once I feel you've improved to a presentable level, we shall meet once a month."

"B-but professor!" Sirius spluttered. "That's completely unfair! I'm just fine on my own, and I didn't start this one, it was that tosspot, I don't even know why—"

The corners Professor McGonagall's mouth twitched. "So you expect me to give you another chance, do you, Black?"

Sirius took a step forward. "Please, Professor—"

"I see. Very well then, you may go, but keep in mind that this offense will be your last without drastic measures being taken."

Sirius could not hide the relief from his face as he hurried out of the office and headed to Potions class, for which he was now certainly late.

"…Sessions with McGonagall, blimey, Pad, could you imagine?" James said incredulously as the four Marauders walked out of Potions class to head to the Great Hall for lunch. "All for a fight I didn't even bloody well get to see!"

"Yeah, well, that's the thing, isn't it?" said Sirius glumly, idly twirling his wand as they walked into the Hall. "I dunno why Thomas came after me. He's never done before."

"Well, it was something about Samara, obviously," Remus put in, lowering his voice as they neared the Gryffindor table. "I think you hurt her more than you realize, Pad—"

"Moony, she already has a date to the Yule Ball, which means I can take whoever I like," Sirius snapped, sitting down at the table and glaring at two ogling first year girls.

"Well, maybe it's some complicated…er…girl thing," Remus said with an air of finality, sitting beside him. Peter and James sat down across from them. Sirius sighed; his friend was probably right—but it just didn't make sense…. He glanced over at the Ravenclaw table, scanning it…

"She's not there," said Peter, somewhat loudly. James elbowed him in the gut and he groaned.

"Shut up, Worm."

Sirius snapped his head back to the table so hard that he felt a sharp pain spread through his neck. He stood up and picked up his books, walking away from the table.

"Sir, where're you—"

But Sirius was already halfway to the entrance. He wasn't very hungry, anyway.

**A/N: How did I do with McGonagall?**


End file.
